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Jasmine Vendor
Sreekanth Kopuri |
Activeness flared in my fatigued eyes.
Circles of lustrous water-sprinkled,
cold jasmine chaplets, every next
smaller than the former, built into
a tower on the reversed cane basket,
at the bare foot of crouched, poor,
little, beautiful girl in rags.
Bare neck, her skirt badly joined
with safety pins, mucus running
down her nose, and being
snivelled in rhythmically.
A small arm-lengthed chaplet
fluttering in her dishevelled
copper coloured plait. A glow of
encouraging and pleasing smile
in her face called me, I walked
past her a few steps.
But...a stir of disturbance
in me made me turn my face to
see her distraught eyes.
Another pretty smile in her
sweaty face, pleading me pleasingly to buy one.
I went...and was handed an
arm-lenghted chaplet of sweet fragrance.
Double the cost I put in her palm.
A happy astonishment in beautiful
eyes stared me long,
thanking me profusely.
But...which eye will see
her poor little, needy heart,
her unfragrant and withered
life behind the pretty smiles
of the jasmine blossoms ?
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